


Walls

by CainReprobus (orphan_account)



Series: The Knight Slept [4]
Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Chemical Burns??, Minor Depictions of Uh, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5267621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CainReprobus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short drabble about [[TKS spoilers]] Hitori in prison. Fun stuff, there.</p><p>Alternate Title: Hitori's Life Sucks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walls

Hitori Uzune was made of walls.

Tall walls, looming, topped with barbed wire. Those kept him from the outside world, from harming anyone else. Even if he had the motive, attempting to break them would be futile. They were real, palpable, and impenetrable. Uzune didn't care about those walls so much. Eventually, their gates would open and he would pass through them. Those walls were not his prison.

A wavering wall, upon which he stood, teetering from one side to the other. Either fall would surely be one to his death. On one side, his dearest love stood below, commanding him fiercely to jump, to join him, to repent for what he'd done. On the other, his brother, sneering that he was worthless. A stain on society, a mistake from birth. It was not out of fear that he hesitated to fall. Indecision was what kept him wobbling as though on a tightrope. He had forsaken them both, after all. To fall towards one was to betray the other again.

**Why did you do it? Why did you let me die? If you'd paid better attention, you could have saved me.**

He'd lost count of how many times he had heard those words. A hundred times? A thousand? His voice was clear as day. Snide, somewhat irritated, as though he was only whining about chores. But it was unmistakably Nageki Fujishiro, and he was unmistakably there.

**But you were caught up in your petty romance with that spineless, snivelling fool. It doesn't matter what you did to him. The damage is already done.**

"I'm sorry," Uzune whispered, clutching himself and digging his fingers into his arms. The cell block was no louder than usual. Snoring came from some cells, the sound of flesh upon flesh, moaning and crying from others. Prison was a terrifying, terrifying place. But for Uzune, the true terrors were the ones within his mind. His eyes remained squeezed shut and he shook his head rapidly, muttering the same words under his breath, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He knew well that if he opened his eyes, their shadows would be there. Sometimes, even without looking, he could feel them brush past him, rustling his shirt or scraping by his shoulder. Despite it never stopping, he jolted every time. They felt so real. Although he could barely remember what they looked like, their dark silhouettes would never fade away.

_W- Why did you kill me, Uzune..? I was so scared... You were so scary. You looked just like a monster. Y- You are a monster._

"I am a monster," he muttered, unable to deny the fact when it so greatly plagued his mind, "K- Kazuaki... I... I am a monster..." His voice was hoarse, 

_You murdered me in cold blood, Uzune... I- I knew you would do it... I knew I couldn't trust you._

**What did you expect, Nanaki? He's a terrible person. No. He can't even be called a person. He's a terrible... creature.**

"N- No!" Uzune cried, gripping his hair and nearly tearing it out, "I- I can't take this anymore! C- Can't you _please_ leave me _alone_!?" His words were full of pain and anguish and his entire body shook with fear. Tears welled in his eyes and he didn't bother wiping them away, simply screaming as they trailed down his face, "It's... It's been _ten_ years... I- I just want... to sleep..."

**You don’t deserve to sleep. What if something were to happen to us while you weren’t awake? Oh… well I guess the worst already happened, right?**

_P- Pathetic…_

Although yes, his narcolepsy did knock him out rather often, those sleeps were nothing but mechanical. A physical state of unconsciousness plagued only with nightmares. Prior to this, he had never dreamed, but now he only did, waking up just as weary as when he had fallen asleep. And the voices would come back.

_G- Good morning, Uzune. Remember the morning I never lived to see?_

“I remember. I remember.”

**And remember the night you failed me? Failed me after trying so hard..?**

“I remember. I couldn’t forget if I… if I tried.”

He was talking to himself. Maybe, deep down, he knew this. His cellmate, that poor unfortunate soul, knew it as for sure. But what he saw felt so real that to him. No, in fact, it _was_ real to him. When he looked down at his hands, they would be covered in bleach, and he would scream. It kept happening. Over and over, he would watch his bloodstained hands sizzle and burn as his skin peeled away. But it never really did. If anything, his panicked scratching at his own hands in an attempt to stop the burning was what truly tore away his skin. They were constantly picked and bloody, but he didn’t even notice.

His legs, which had genuinely been burned in the incident… were gone. When he looked down, they simply ceased to be. Even when he walked, it seemed like he was floating. He couldn’t see them, instead seeing only empty air. At first, it terrified him. But as the voices kept taunting him and his hands kept melting away, it was nothing. It was just a cross he would have to bear.

At heart, he wished his legs were truly gone, and he wished his hands would tear apart for good. With no way to walk and no hands, he would never hurt anyone again. He never wanted to hurt anyone again.

Or so he told himself, but he was simply yet another person he could lie to and betray.

_I hate you, Uzune._

**You’re despicable, Hitori.**

“I know. _I know!_ ”

No matter how he cried, no matter how he begged, the voices that plagued him and the visions he saw never stopped. Not for nineteen years.

Even as he jumped off that bridge, he could have sworn he heard it.

**_Coward._ **

In death, Uzune’s walls, the one he trod on and the ones that kept him in, had finally crumbled apart. But little did he know, on top of the pile of rubble, a robe and crown awaited him. He would be a king. A not-so-grand king for a grand kingdom. Inside a castle’s walls, not prison walls.

In the end, though, every castle has a dungeon. A dungeon to contain liars, murderers, thieves. The walls of the dungeon and the walls of the castle were one and the same, for Uzune. He would be a king… but he could never change the past. Although he no longer teetered on the edge, not remained enclosed within them...

Hitori Uzune would always be made of walls.


End file.
